


The Between Times

by Aysu



Series: EBF Collection [4]
Category: Epic Battle Fantasy (Matt Roszak Video Games)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe, And a Hug, Angst, Episodic Chapters, F/M, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Lance needs therapy, Language, Mild Sexual Content, Mourning, Self-Harm, Sort Of, Suffering, good thing anna's here, post natalie's death from Guardians on FanFiction, questionable morals, she has problems too, some slice of life, survivor's guilt, woe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:16:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aysu/pseuds/Aysu
Summary: Follow Lance and Anna as they rebuild and recover following Natalie's death in The Fall.
Relationships: Anna/Lance (Epic Battle Fantasy)
Series: EBF Collection [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2015827
Kudos: 13





	1. Returning Home

**Author's Note:**

> So, it's probably important that you read Guardians first, but if you don't need/don't care about the reasoning behind why Lance and Anna are where they are, and why they're doing what they're doing, then sally forth.
> 
> Anyway, since this fic takes place over a very long period of time (some 700 years I think, post-Natalie's-death all the way to her resurrection), I decided to try something a bit different for me. These will be more like individual stories linked together by the overarching theme and following a chronological order. That means that chapters may move around as I write/upload them. I'm not sure how that will work just yet, but here goes nothing.
> 
> And it's not all doom and gloom, I promise, but the first couple of chapters understandably are.

It didn’t take Anna long to get Lance settled in at her home in Greenwood. The gunner was quiet, almost meek, as he followed her directions to lie down on her bed and not move. But as helpful as his compliance was, it concerned Anna. Gone was the obnoxious, obstinate, and abrasive fighter Lance had been, leaving behind a weary and hopeless shell. He didn’t insist that he felt fine when Anna checked his bandages, nor did he turn up his nose at her offers of water and an extra blanket, nor made crass remarks about being in her bed; he didn’t even argue or offer to come along when she announced that she needed to check on her village and people. 

Anna didn’t really know what to make of it, but she hoped he'd snap out of his funk soon. Almost immediately, she chastised herself for the insensitive thought. Of course Lance was hurting: Natalie had tried to kill him for attempting to stop her ritual suicide, leaving him injured, weak, and shell-shocked that she was gone, and Matt had chased them both away after the mage's cremation. He would need time and care to recover both mentally and physically. 

At the moment, however, she needed to see if the demonic infestation had been a problem for Greenwood. The village seemed alright: nothing was burning or under attack, and the idols were still puttering about in their duties. The few villagers she passed that were not working the fields didn’t seem alarmed, even though she'd explained the situation to Lana and Sarah to have them spread word of the potential disaster. Perhaps Mighty Oak and the forest's protections also worked on the demonic invaders, she mused thoughtfully as she set a course to speak with Lana. 

"Ah, Anna, you return to us safe and sound," the elderly priestess greeted warmly when Anna entered her hut. "All has been well here. You will be pleased to hear our experiences with the spirits of the earth served us well, and the blessings stand as strong as ever." 

Anna's shoulders slumped with relief, and she sighed, "That is good to hear." She tried for a faint smile as she added, "You’ll be happy and unsurprised to hear we were... successful... in our mission. Godcat has sealed off the rip, but the many demons already here will have to be hunted down and slain. She suspects most of them will probably reproduce and adapt to our world, so getting rid of them entirely likely won’t ever happen." 

Lana nodded wisely, though her eyes were shrewd as she took in the exhausted and sorrowful gleam in Anna's eyes. "I am glad to hear that, but I am deeply sorry for the loss that was required." She smiled sympathetically and shook her head when Anna twitched in surprise at her already knowing. "Natalie will be missed by all, but I trust she will rest well. How has Matt taken her death?" 

Anna's eyes burned at the reminder that Natalie was dead, and she shut them to try and fight the tears back. "Not well," she admitted in a tight voice. "He told me and Lance to go almost as soon as he woke up—said he didn’t want to see us or anyone else for a long time. Lance isn’t taking the losses well." 

Lana's sad frown deepened as tears ran down Anna's cheeks, and she stepped forwards to fold the younger woman into a comforting embrace. Her hold tightened when Anna broke down into sobs muffled against her shoulder. "I can see you are not well, either. Shh, Anna, shh... Things will improve. Both Matt and Lance are strong, and they will overcome this. Just as you will. You just have to hold on..." 

"It's only been a few days, but I already miss her so much," Anna whimpered with her eyes screwed shut. "I keep turning around, expecting her to be right behind me with a smile, but she isn’t there, and she won’t ever be there again. And I can’t stop thinking about all the things we said we were going to do together that we never did. I was going to help her start a flower garden with lots of purple flowers, and she was going to teach me higher magic, and we were going to go on a short trip to hunt monsters, just the two of us, and I never got to go to her favorite spa with her, and... and... It isn’t fair! Why did she have to die?" 

Lana's hand came up to cradle the back of Anna's head as the ranger burst into fresh sobs, and she rested her cheek against emerald hair and closed her own eyes. "The cruelest gift of life is that it ends at different times for us all. For some, we make it to old age with few regrets and much pride; for others, life is cut tragically short, leaving behind loved ones who bear the burden for the rest of their own lives." She drew back to hold Anna by the shoulders and gave a sad smile. "You have had far too much tragedy in your life, Anna, but just as with your parents' deaths, you will find ways to bear this newest burden more easily, and someday, you will be able to look back and smile at your memories, which is what I am sure Natalie would wish for you to do." 

Anna sniffled and didn’t look so certain. "But I still miss them, and they’ve been dead since I was four. I didn’t even know or remember them that well..." How was she going to move past Natalie's death when she'd known and been friends with the mage for almost a decade? 

Lana nodded and reached up to gently brush the tears from Anna's cheeks with the back of her hand. "And you likely always will miss them, but did that sadness and longing make you stop? No, it did not. And it will not stop you this time. I know you, Anna, perhaps better than you know yourself, and I know you will become stronger still for this latest heartache. You will mourn, and you will recover. And when you recover, I suspect you’ll focus on becoming even better than I or anyone else could possibly imagine. For now, however, you should rest; let us take care of the village for the time being. See to yourself and Lance. Take time to remember Natalie, and maybe plant that purple flower garden in her honor." 

Anna was silently crying again, but she nodded and tried for a wobbly smile before hugging the elderly priestess again. "Thank you, Lana. I’ll do that," she whispered. 

Lana nodded against Anna's hair and patted her back once before standing away to let the young ranger leave. And once Anna was gone, she lit an incense for Natalie and prayed for a peaceful rest for the mage, and promised to look after the friends she'd left behind for as long as she remained alive. 

Anna took the roundabout route back to her house to give herself time to calm down. Lana was right that Natalie wouldn’t want them mourning her death forever. It would take time, of course, but there were steps to help that she could take right now. First, however, was seeing to Lance. With that thought in mind, she stopped by the food court to pick up some fresh food for the next few days. 

Lance appeared to be sleeping when she finally returned, and Anna carefully tucked the blanket up to his chin, trying hard to avoid jostling his broken arm. Then she set about making a simple dinner of roast forest hen, buttered rolls, and wilted greens. Lance slept through the preparations, and Anna let him. It had been hard to persuade him to rest while they'd been at Matt's den—he'd firmly believed that if he shut his eyes, his other friends would vanish from his life, too. Bitterly, she regretted that Matt had proven him right to fear. But she refused to leave him behind, no matter what. 

It was just as the sun had set and she'd lighted a few glow crystals and finished setting the table that Lance emerged from her room. He didn’t look as though he'd gotten any rest at all, and his expression was dull and sad as he watched Anna slice his meat up for him. His eyes remained trained on her long after she'd sat down and started forcing the food past the lump in her throat. It only took a brief glance up to meet his gaze to know he was making sure she was real, and she tried for a reassuring smile. His gaze dropped from hers and he began to silently eat his meal, which she supposed was sort of a success, even if he didn’t look entirely reassured.

As soon as he was done eating, he retreated back to her room, all without saying a single word. Anna blew out a silent sigh and moved to clean up and douse the lights. She opted to sleep in her bedroll on the rug of her small sitting area, and called a soft goodnight to Lance. Sleep was as long in coming as it always seemed to be now, but she eventually drifted off to the familiar and comforting sounds of Greenwood at night. Her dreams, however, were restless and sad, though she saw nothing definite in any of them. 

The next morning saw her opening her tired eyes to the sight of Lance sleeping against the wall across from her with a blanket clumsily pulled around his shoulders and his head tucked to his chest. Anna's heart clenched at the sight of dried tear tracks on his cheeks, and she cautiously scooted over to tuck the blanket more securely around his form before contenting herself to waiting beside him with her hand around his until he woke up on his own. Her head leaned back against the wall, and she tiredly watched the rustling leaves outside her window grow brighter and brighter as the sun rose while her thumb rubbed softly across Lance's knuckles. 

An hour passed that way until Lance's fingers tightened briefly around her own and he let out a hoarse groan and opened his eyes. Almost immediately, he stiffened and jerked his head around with wide eyes to check on Anna, only to relax as soon as he saw her sitting there, safe, and sound, and alive. He winced as his neck protested the abrupt movement after spending the night in such an uncomfortable position. 

"You should have stayed in the bed," Anna scolded mildly as she observed his wince. "You would have been comfier." 

"It’s your bed," Lance mumbled somewhat inanely, as though whose bed it was mattered for whether he was more comfortable or not. 

"True, but you’re the one with the broken arm, and would have a much harder time getting on and off the floor than I would," Anna pointed out as she boosted herself to her feet; she made no mention of the flash of relief she felt for him actually talking. "Speaking of, how's the arm feeling today?" 

"It's fine." 

"Agonizing pain and itchy, got it," Anna translated with a lopsided smile that almost felt real. 

Lance rolled his eyes, but said nothing as he accepted Anna’s hand to pull him upright. In truth, the ranger was correct: his entire right arm was painfully swollen, stiff, and throbbing all at once, and the brace it was in was hot and itchy on his skin. But it would heal, unlike Natalie. He'd known Matt would hate him for losing her, and yet he'd naïvely hoped the dragon's understanding words before he'd passed out would still stand once he'd woken up again. But they hadn’t, and it hurt that his weakness had lost two of his best friends. Anna seemed to be doing much better than him, too, and he dismally wondered how long it would be before he lost her, too. 

A cup appeared in his vision and he blinked twice at it before he realized Anna was offering him some smelly herbal drink. He opened his mouth the refuse it, but the anxious look in her eyes had him relenting. The liquid was bitter going down, and he shuddered as the taste clung to his tongue. 

"What the hell was that?" he gagged while making a face. 

"It's a painkiller. Sorry it’s so bitter. I don’t have any honey to sweeten it right now," Anna explained apologetically as she handed him another glass of plain water to wash away the taste. "Why don’t you go sit down and I'll make something sweet for breakfast? Pancakes and fruit, maybe?" 

Lance shrugged his good shoulder and trailed after her to the table to sit down. Several long minutes passed in silence where Anna threw dry ingredients, eggs, and milk into a bowl to pour into a greased and heated pan. Between flipping griddles, she deftly sliced up some apples and strawberries, and through some kitchen sorcery he didn’t understand, managed to make a fruit sauce out of seemingly nothing but hot water, sugar, and fruit bits. 

"How’s the village?" he finally asked as the stack of pancakes grew five griddles high and she scraped the last of the batter into the pan. 

"Greenwood is fine. The forest's enchantments and Mighty Oak seem to have kept the demons out," Anna replied quietly. She carefully slid the last pancake onto the stack and brought the steaming plate over to the table before adding, "Lana says she and the other rangers can handle things for the time being." 

"We need to check on the other towns," Lance mused as he clumsily stabbed two of the pancakes onto his plate and spilled sauce over them and onto the table using his left hand. He ignored Anna's amused smile for the mess. 

"Not right away, we don’t," Anna refused firmly around a mouthful of food. She swallowed and nodded at his arm. "That's going to need a couple months at least to properly mend. The other towns have fighters. They'll be fine on their own for awhile." 

Lance wasn’t so sure, given that the demons were attracted to objects of high mana—like the jewels—but he didn’t say anything. The altars were warded, after all, and Anna was right: each town had a healthy number of fighters and guardsmen in them. And without healing magic, his arm was out of commission for the better part of the rest of the year. Natalie wasn’t there to heal it, after all. 

Anna watched as emotions flitted across Lance's strangely open expression before settling on sorrow. It wasn’t hard to imagine what he was thinking of, and she decided maybe he needed a constructive goal to focus on. 

"I was... I was thinking we need to honor Natalie in some way," she announced in an uncertain voice. "What do you think?" 

Lance's expression fell a little more, but he nodded. "Definitely. I mean, she didn’t always make the right choices, but she was a hero more than once. The world is worse off for... for losing her." 

Anna nodded somberly, and they spent several moments in silence grappling with their grief before they finally resumed eating in silence. 


	2. Grief

Anna ran a frustrated hand through her bangs as she scowled after Lance's back. It had been five months since Natalie's death, and while the pain was still fresh, shouldn’t he be trying to move forwards? His burns and lacerations had healed, and his arm was nearly mended, yet he refused to continue repairs on his gunblade. And it seemed that no matter what she suggested he do, he either was too tired, or had some inane excuse for why he was unavailable at that moment. 

And all of that was to say nothing of his horrible eating and sleeping habits. He hardly ate, only seemed to sleep in one-hour-long bursts once every three days, and refused to exercise, and the physical results of such poor self-care were rapidly becoming more and more evident. He'd lost an alarming amount of weight, his palor was sickly and pale, and his expression perpetually exhausted. 

He was on an unending and rapid downward spiral, and she didn’t know what to do for him. Talking to him begged bitter arguments or stony silence. Forcing him to eat resulted in him throwing up. She couldn’t even slip him some kind of effective knockout drug, because at his current weight, it might kill him. It seemed like it was merely a matter of time before she lost her last teammate and friend. 

And they still had to go check on the other towns. There had been no traders and no word, good or bad, of how the other towns were holding up, which was unusual and worrisome. With a heavy sigh, Anna resigned herself to making her first trip to Goldenbrick alone. As a result, the rest of the afternoon wasn’t spent on tending the budding flowers of her garden to honor Natalie, but on gathering provisions and informing people of where she was going, and begging Sarah to make daily checks on Lance. 

That evening, she prepared dinner in silence, having already decided to not tell Lance she would be heading out early the following morning. She laid a plate out for him, but beyond informing him that dinner was ready, she didn’t make any effort to get him to eat. 

Lance didn’t move from where he was curled up on his cot, staring dully at the wall. He listened as Anna ate dinner and cleaned up, as she padded about, getting ready for bed, and as she mumbled a brief goodnight. Even those familiar sounds were heard as though through a dull haze. He knew he should be fixing his weapon, he knew he should be stretching his arm each morning to strengthen the muscles after such a long layaway, and he knew he should eat and sleep. And yet, he just couldn’t see the point. Being at his best hadn’t helped anything. Natalie had soundly destroyed him and killed herself despite his best efforts to stop her. Matt had turned him and Anna away, despite knowing they hadn’t wanted the mage's death, nor wanted to lose contact with him again. It seemed so much smarter and easier to just lay in a stupor and not burden Anna any more than necessary. 

Besides, if he could help drive Natalie to suicide by trying to look out for her, then what would he do to Anna when he tried to 'help' her? It was better he never found out that answer. Anna was all he had left of his ragtag family and team. 

And yet, when he woke the next morning, he discovered that he didn’t even have her anymore. Anna was gone from her bed, and Sarah was preparing breakfast. Lance jolted upright with wide eyes, staring in baffled confusion at the younger woman calmly frying an omelette on Anna's stove. 

"Where's Anna?" he asked in a voice hoarse from disuse. 

Sarah jumped and spun to look at him in surprise. "Lance? Gods, it's good to hear you talking again! Anna's been worried to death." 

A twinge of guilt shot through Lance at those words, but he doggedly repeated, "Where's Anna?" 

"Went to Goldenbrick to check on the state of things. We haven’t gotten any word from there in well over a month, which is pretty odd. Of course, they may just still be busy repairing from that tsunami," Sara replied evenly. She carefully slid the omelette onto a plate and moved to set it on the table before looking over at Lance again with a slightly accusing stare. "She was hoping you’d be in shape to go with her, but since you seem content to waste away into a corpse, she decided to head out on her own." 

Lance's eyes widened even further in horror as his mind instantly jumped to all the other awful reasons why Goldenbrick had been silent. Maybe it had become a demon nest, maybe the tsunami had spread a deadly and infectious disease, maybe outlaws had seized control in the end of the world fervor that had possessed most people after the rip had opened—more and more scenarios filled his head, and none of them were situations to be tackled alone. Furiously, he wondered what the hell Anna had been thinking to go to such a potentially dangerous place alone. 

"Well if you had gotten your act together, she wouldn’t have gone alone," Sarah snapped, and Lance started as he realized he'd said that last part aloud. 

"I have to go after her." 

Sarah barked out a laugh and gestured at him. "Have you looked at yourself recently, Lance? You’d be more of a hindrance than a help. You’re sleep-deprived and starved, your arm is still in a fragile state and the bone could easily break again, and you never bothered to repair your damn gunblade, so you have no way to defend yourself at close range. It's little wonder Anna decided to sneak off without telling you.  I could restrain you with no trouble at all, and that's just sad." 

Lance flinched at each scathing point, and he miserably stared down at his hands. It was true that the skin was way too taut across his wrists and fingers. To add to that, he felt dizzy even just sitting there, which could have been a testament to either his lack of sleep, his lack of sustenance, or a nasty combination of the two. Even if he had repaired his gunblade, he would barely have the strength to lift it, and never mind swing it or fend off an attack. What the hell had possessed him to allow so many detriments pile up? Now Anna was out there in a world filled with unknown and dangerous creatures with no one to watch her back, and she was on a direct course for a magical object almost certainly likely to attract powerful demons. 

What if she was killed? The mere thought caused his breath to stall in his chest and he felt an overwhelming sensation of helplessness swamp him. He'd be all alone, trapped in an eternal life with no one to lean on or turn to for comfort and company. Maybe Matt would welcome him back, someday, but he couldn’t imagine facing the dragon after having caused  both their teammates' deaths. Maybe Godcat would make an exception to her pact with him once she saw how utterly useless he was. 

A gentle hand rubbing over his back had him startling back to the present and shying back. Sarah had come over beside him with a worried expression, and was... telling him to calm down and breathe? It belatedly occurred to him that he'd been in the grips of a panic attack, and had begun hyperventilating. The room was spinning, and there were strange spots in his vision. Anna certainly hadn’t bought a second table—not that her house could even fit another one—which meant his vision was crossing. Inanely, he let his eyes wander across the wavering duplicates of everything as he half-focused on taking deep, even breaths until the doubles vanished. 

"You okay?" Sarah asked quietly after a few minutes of silence. 

Lance nodded slightly. "Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. Sorry for flying to pieces." 

"Don’t be. I should have been more sympathetic of your situation.  I’m sorry," Sarah refuted firmly. She pulled her hand away and moved to retrieve the omelette that was growing cold on the table. "Here, have something to eat. You'll feel better." 

And for the first time in weeks, Lance accepted the plate without pause and began eating. Unfortunately, he only managed to swallow half of it before his stomach turned, and he found himself scrambling for a bucket to vomit in. In a flash, Sarah was at his side, rubbing his back again. 

"Gods, I didn’t think you were this bad," she breathed worriedly. "I’ll make some broth, and then let me go get Lana. We're going to have to work you back up to solids." 

Lance, shaky from the vomiting, merely nodded weakly. He accepted Sarah's help getting back to bed, and reclined back against his pillow, propped up against the headboard. His expression was ashamed as he watched Sarah rummage through Anna's food supplies to find some canned soup that she then warmed up and watered down to bring over in a cup. He couldn’t meet her eyes as she hovered anxiously beside his bed as he sipped at the flavorless liquid. When it didn’t immediately come back up, she relaxed a little, and trotted for the door with a promise to be right back. 

Ten minutes later, and the young woman returned with Lana in tow. 

"I hear you’ve driven your body to the brink," Lana tsked disapprovingly. She grabbed his wrist and peered at the back of his hand before reaching up and pressing a thumb to his cheek and watching as the indent took far too long to fill in. "Yes, you’re dangerously dehydrated and malnourished, but it seems you’re keeping the broth down, so that's a good sign. Five small liquid meals a day, starting with watered broth mixed with traveler's weed for the first two. On the third day, see how he handles the broth without it being diluted, and if that goes well, then try pressed apples on the fourth day," she decided briskly, talking to Sarah. "We'll see how he's doing then, and go from there." 

"Yes, Lana," Sarah promised. 

"And you, young man," Lana added in a scolding tone with a look to match. "You need to take better care of yourself—you’re far too intelligent to be allowing this to happen. Natalie would be appalled at the sight of you as you are now, and ashamed that her death was the cause. And Anna would be crushed if you starved yourself to death, so don’t fight us on helping you. Eat your meals, but stop if you feel like throwing up. Don’t get out of bed unless you absolutely must, and do not do any kind of lifting or strenuous activity." 

Lance winced on every point with his eyes focused on his lap, but nodded and mumbled a promise to follow directions. He missed the frowns Lana and Sarah exchanged at his meek response. They were beginning to see why Anna had been so concerned each time she'd sought them out for advice. Lance had deteriorated in more ways than just physically. 

Still, despite the deeper concern, he did indeed follow their directions, gradually eating more and more each day, and of foods of greater substance. By the end of the week, he still looked unhealthily thin, but color had returned to his skin, and his face didn’t look so sunken. Unfortunately, Anna still had yet to return, and Lance's worry for her grew with each passing day, and then, after six days, each passing hour. He chafed at the restrictions to movement, he resented his body for taking so long to recover, and he hated himself for being too weak to have helped in the first place. And every night, he had nightmares about Natalie’s death—watching, but unable to intervene, as she gave up her life. And sometimes, it wasn’t Natalie who died, but Anna. The dreams only added to the stress that continued to build. 

Then, early one morning on the ninth day, he woke up to see Anna collapsed on her bed, sleeping peacefully and unhurt, despite the singes on her armor. She must have returned late the night before and gone immediately to bed, he realized with immense relief—she hadn’t even bothered to pull her armor off, and her hair was still braided in the tight tail she wore to kept the strands out of the way on difficult missions and battles. And she was deeply asleep, since she didn’t wake up even after he began carefully unbuckling the leather parts of her armor to peel away and undid the braid her hair was in to release the tension it had to have on her scalp. The only change was that she let out a long sigh and curled a little tighter under the blanket he tucked over her. 

Lance let out a sigh of his own to release the pent up tension and worry that had been building the longer she had been gone. Anna had made it back safely after all, and he would be damned if he let her go without him again. And with that thought in mind, he turned to start making breakfast for himself, as well as something for Anna, if she woke. 

And Anna did awaken towards the end of the meal preparation, coaxed awake by the delicious smell of cooking food. She blearily peeled her tired eyelids open to see the surprising sight of Lance standing over the stove, sliding steaming food around in a pan. Eggs, of some sort, her nose decided: eggs cooked in bacon and sausage grease, for added flavor. Her stomach growled appreciatively at the thought, and she found herself sliding her legs off her bed, still staring at Lance. 

Her eyes had a hard time convincing her brain of what she was seeing. Lance actually doing something productive and useful? And more than that, she could see him occasionally nibbling on a piece of toast. He was eating without being coerced? Maybe she was still asleep, after all. 

Then Lance turned with a platter of food in hand to set on the table while the food sizzled behind him, saw her, and promptly froze. For several long moments, they simply gaped at each other. Then smoke began curling from the pan, and Anna instinctively darted forwards to rescue the eggs before they truly burned, or set her kitchen on fire. Lance shrank away from her as she dashed past, dumbly uncertain for why she was running at him. Then he saw what she was doing, and mentally slapped himself for forgetting about the cooking food he had literally  just been working on. 

"I’m surprised to see you up and eating," Anna finally said softly, breaking the awkward silence. 

"And I’m surprised to see you back and safe," was what ran through Lance's head, but he was stuck staring at Anna. 

A part of him had really, truly believed he wasn’t going to see her again. He stiffly sat down, still staring at the back of Anna's head. But what he couldn’t see was the way the ranger's brow was furrowing and her lips had curled into a frown. He did, however, hear the bitter anger and disappointment in her voice when she spoke. 

"Back to silence, huh?" 

Lance blinked twice before quietly saying, "No?" 

Anna snorted and shook her head as she turned the heat off on the stove. She ignored the worried look he was giving her in favor of throwing some food on her plate and viciously stabbing some eggs with a fork. Unsure of what the problem was, Lance silently nibbled on some more toast. Several minutes passed in silence. 

"Was everything okay in Goldenbrick?" he finally asked. 

"Oh, now you care about Goldenbrick? Well too little too late." Anna snarled furiously, her eyes snapping up to glare at him. She took a vindictive pleasure in the way he flinched and shrank back. "The town is completely wiped out of anyone civilized. Demons control the southern half, pirates control the coast, and bandits are pillaging anything of value remaining. Anyone else is cowering in the edges of Lankyroot or in the catacombs of Godcat's temple. They might have been saved if someone had come and helped them a month ago when things started getting out of hand, but no. I was too busy playing nursemaid to an overgrown brat who was busy starving himself into a grave labeled self-pity! And nobody takes me seriously because I’m just 'blowing things out of proportion,' like I don’t know what starvation looks like, or how my supposed 'friends' are typically behaved! And now you have the gall to pretend like you care. You have never cared."

Lance tried to ignore the way her words stabbed, but his voice was lower than he really intended or wanted as he said, "I  do care. Maybe even too much." He flinched when Anna let out a derisive laugh, and he said more loudly in protest, "I  do ! I’ve only been so quiet and... and not eating because I’m  not worth it! " 

Anna was brought up short at his shouted, self-loathing statement, and her eyes flew wide. She opened her mouth to deny the claim, intending to point out that she wouldn’t have been trying so hard for him if he wasn’t worth it, but Lance was on tangent now. She shut her mouth and watched as he sprang up to pace with anxious energy. 

"I can’t do anything to help! I tried to help Natalie, and look where that got her! I chased Matt away for  years because I had failed, and he was right to finally turn his back! Even trying to help you backfired, because I was too self-absorbed and depressed to realize I was making a mess of myself and wouldn’t be able to back you up in battle! Not that I would have been much use anyway: my weaponry, even if weren’t broken, does next to nothing against demons, and my magic isn’t focused enough to use for extended periods of time! And you-!" His shouted words suddenly softened as all the anger seemed to evaporate, leaving him looking tired, and confused, and sad. "And you were the only good thing, the one thing I hadn’t screwed up yet, and you think I don’t care. I- I was so sure I could at least keep you safe from me, but you hate me, too." 

Alright, Anna thought,  that was too far. She couldn’t have Lance thinking she hated him, and especially not when he so clearly hated himself. It had been painfully obvious that he'd blamed himself for the events with Natalie, but she hadn’t realized how deep that blame ran, or how reaching it had become. Somehow, in some twisted way only a truly depressed mind could figure, he'd managed to pin himself as to blame for everything that was wrong, past and present. His words and rationality, which she was certain made perfect sense to his mind, were so contradictory and wrong that she wasn’t sure where to even begin. 

"...I don’t hate you," she finally whispered fiercely. "I  never hated you. I’m sorry I made you think that I did, and I’m sorry for snapping at you. I’m tired, but that was no reason to blame you for what happened in Goldenbrick. I’m sorry."

Lance wouldn't meet her eyes, but he nodded. It would have to be good enough for now, and she would work to prove the truth of her words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really happy with the ending of this one, so I might change it later, but it'll do for now.


	3. Scars

The prickling along the back of his neck finally got Lance to cast a sideways glance to see Anna staring at him. The expression on her face was strange, and it took him a while to realize she was staring at his chest. He glanced down at himself in confusion and tensed when he realized he'd somehow forgotten about the ugly scar marring his skin. Immediately, his mouth went dry as his stomach turned, and he hurriedly yanked a clean shirt on to hide the messy remains of his burn.

He couldn’t bring himself to meet Anna's eyes again as he turned to quietly stoke the campfire. It was an ugly mark in more ways than one. He'd never had issues with the multitude of scars he'd gained from a life of fighting, but none of those had been so expansive and dark, and none of them had been earned during complete and utter failure where failure hadn’t been an option. He would spend the rest of his life seeing that mark and being reminded of his inadequacy.

Anna's voice broke the uncomfortable silence, barely louder than the night insects in the trees around them. "Does it hurt ever?"

Lance's shoulders tensed further, and he wished she had just let it go. "When it storms, yeah," he agreed stiffly.

Behind his back, Anna’s face fell and she found herself with the sudden urge to reach out to Lance, while at the same time wanting to will the ground to simply open up and swallow her. Instead of either of those things happening, she channeled the sudden uncomfortable energy into a restless tapping of fingers against her hip.

"I’m sorry," she breathed miserably at the ground. "If I were even half as good at healing as Natalie was, I would have been able to fix it without the scarring."

Lance started at that and turned to gape at her incredulously. "Hey, you saved my life, Anna. As far as I'm concerned, that's a lot more important than doing a perfect job." He held her eyes for a few moments when she hopefully glanced up at him, before shrugging and looking to the side. "I should have been faster, anyway. And besides, it's not like you weren’t already wounded and tired when... when it happened. Even the best healers struggle under those conditions."

Anna reluctantly nodded, turning her attention to dinner while Lance mumbled to himself over their plans for rebuilding the nearby village.


	4. Rebuilding

" You are a  _hypocrite_ ."

The sudden accusation nearly caused Anna to fall off of the beam she'd been securing. Hastily, she righted her balance with a firm grasp on a stud, then peered down to see Lance staring up at her with his arms crossed and one unamused brow raised. She offered him a nervous grin that she hoped would placate him a bit.

"I’ll be down just as soon as I’ve finished fastening this cross beam," she promised.

"Uh, huh. That is almost word for word what you said two hours ago on the opposite corner of this structure. And I, in my infinite gullibility, trusted you to come to the lodge for dinner, and waited nearly an hour, keeping your food warm, because I knew if I wandered off, you would yell at me for overworking," Lance stated, voice dry and unimpressed. He spread his arms to either side and looked around with exaggerated motions. "' _See how much you’ve done already today? You’re not going to rebuild the town in a week, you know. Pace yourself, or you'll burn out. And I'd better not come over here to see you still working once the sun passes the tree tops_ _._ '"

Anna winced again and weakly objected, "That is a terrible impression of my voice."

"Get your ass down here and come eat. The beam can wait," Lance grunted, ignoring her complaint.

With a loud sigh, Anna ignored his orders long enough to finish securing the beam before clambering down. She met his glare with one of her own, and ignored the way he rolled his eyes as they headed back to where the reconstruction volunteers were staying. The long, low building somehow looked even more lopsided and slapdash in the evening gloom, but inside warmth and chatter filled the air from groups of workers clustered around various cook pots.

Anna nodded to a few calls and greetings but stuck close to Lance as he picked his way through to the far corner where their bedrolls waited beside their own small cook fire. A covered pot rested over banked embers, and the smell of rich stew wafted out with the steam when Lance uncovered it to split the contents between them. Anna accepted her share with a quiet thanks, and distracted herself with inhaling the food. Thick pieces of carrot and parsnip fell apart under her teeth, interspersed with some kind of bushmeat, and all floating in a thick broth. She appreciated the extra kick of whatever spice Lance had experimented with this time. Across from her, Lance did the same, but his eyes remained on Anna rather than his dinner. As soon as she finished scraping the last morsels from the bowl with a piece of bread, he spoke up.

"Look, I get it. The sooner we're done here, the sooner these people can start picking up the pieces of their lives, and the sooner we can set the appropriate wards and move on. You and I both want to see it done quickly and correctly," he offered quietly and seriously. He waited until Anna looked up to meet his eyes before continuing even more quietly. "More than just building, we are in charge of keeping these refugees safe. We can’t do that to the best of our abilities if we're too exhausted to even pick up our feet, or are sleeping so deeply we don’t wake up to respond in time to a threat."

"That's rich, coming from you," Anna reproachfully grumbled without much heat.

Lance sighed long and low, closing his eyes for a few seconds. "Just because I did the same thing doesn’t mean it's smart. You were right to call me in a couple of nights ago, just as I was right to call you in tonight. Other people can build, and we can support them, but no one else can fight like we can. On top of that, we're a team. I need you in as good of health as possible, just as you need the same from me. We have to be on the same page about this, alright?"

Anna's shoulders drooped a bit. "Alright. How about we work on the same house tomorrow? Since we can’t trust each other to quit at a reasonable time."

Lance's mouth twitched into a half-smirk. "Deal. Now let's clean this up and get to sleep before the snoring starts."

The new arrangement worked out with surprisingly few bumps between them. In fact, other workers began commenting on the efficiency of the pair, and how easily one could tell what the other needed or wanted without more than a growl or sigh and a simple look. Eventually, they began working separately again as reconstruction moved on to getting fields set up for food, and things like sewage needed planning and implementing. On unspoken agreement, Anna moved on to the fields while Lance set to work neatly organizing ditches, pipes, and infrastructure with room to expand in the future; both worked on the agreement of quitting once the sun crossed the trees.

Within a month, a large inn had been constructed in place of the longhouse, and would serve as lodging as more homes were completed. A modest warehouse had been put up with a store nearby, both already beginning to stock their shelves with canned berries, dried meats, and furs. Three smaller houses were completed, though not yet furnished, while the frames of a dozen more waited to be hoisted. A mist of green carpeted the new fields, spurred by Anna’s magic to make up for the late planting, and promising a sizable harvest of basic vegetables. It was at this point that Anna and Lance agreed it was time to move on.

"We'll be back in six months or so to check up. The wards should last for years longer than that, and you'll be safe so long as you don’t stay out after dark," Anna assured the milling crowd. "If you need anything sooner than that, send a hawk to Greenwood—they'll be able to help out a little, and can get in touch with me if it's serious. And remember you need to finish the sewage pit before you build any more houses."

Lance waited a few paces away as Anna accepted thanks and well wishes for both of them. Part of him was eager to get moving again—it had been too long since either of them had stayed in one place for so long—while another part of him wondered if maybe they were leaving too soon. There was so little knowledge of demonic abilities and habits. What if something unknown attacked this homestead? And on top of that very real threat, they hadn't been able to find a more efficient way to get lighting for the homes beyond crude candles made from grease and animal fat, and natural sunlight. Heating came from wood fires in stone hearths, and most of the food was being gathered rather than grown. It seemed like the homestead was a single disaster away from being wiped out or otherwise abandoned.

Still, he thought he hid his worries well until they were out of sight. No one in the crowd even glanced twice at him, and Anna merely smiled as she assured the crowd over and over that they would be fine. It wasn't until even the smoke from the village passed behind the horizon that he saw Anna's shoulders slump.

"Gods, there's so much more that needs to be done there before winter comes," she whispered.

Despite having her share his private concerns, Lance nudged her shoulder with a smile. "Nothing that needs to be done is out of their control, and a lot of it just needs time. They have hunters, they have a solid leadership with a plan, they have armed and trained guards, and we've given them one hell of a leg up. They'll be fine."

Even as he spoke, he felt his own shoulders unwind. It was true, after all. The fields would provide plenty of food for winter, and the surrounding land had more than enough game and wild edibles to sustain them until the harvest. There was an entire forest nearby for building supplies and firewood, and a well-worn trail to the nearest established town that was a mere five days away for anything they couldn’t find, make, or grow. The homes were solid and weather ready for all but the worst of storms. And he and Anna had scouted out and eliminated any threats from the surrounding land.

"They‘ll be fine," he repeated more to himself than to Anna, his words quiet but firm.

Anna smiled over at him in relief and gratitude. "You're right. There's nothing more we could do for them right now, anyway."


	5. Gathering and Planning

You know, it’s been a while since we've hunted monsters for building supplies," Lance called conversationally as he rolled underneath an elemental's ice blast. He fired two bullets point-blank into the monster's hide, then barked a curse when it whirled to slash at him, scoring a shallow cut along his forearm that rapidly blackened with frostbite. "Son of a half-baked slime, that hurt you stupid-"

"It has been a long time; it's been longer still since I’ve had to tell you to shut up and focus," Anna cut in dryly, though her lips twitched with amusement. "Next time, wear the right armor if you don’t want to get hurt."

"Easy for you to say: you don’t have to get close to them," Lance muttered as he caught a second slash from the monster with his gunblade. A second later, and he stepped back with a satisfied smirk and flexed his injured arm when a sparking arrow sprouted out of the elemental’s head and electricity crackled over it's twitching corpse as it collapsed. "Nice shot."

"As always," Anna agreed smugly, scanning the aftermath of their battle. She shouldered her bow and rolled her shoulders before sliding down from her perch. "Let's patch you up and gather the spoils. Should be enough here to finish fortifying the warehouse."

Lance grunted noncommittally as he watched the damage to his arm rapidly heal to leave just a pale line on the skin. It took much less time than it used to, and he inwardly thought that was just as he had expected. With increased need and practice, Anna—and himself, to an extent—was becoming much more competent with magic; it likely wouldn’t be much longer before she could heal as effortlessly as Natalie ever had. The thought sent a mixed pulse of sorrow and pride through him, and he briefly shut his eyes with a sigh before turning to inspect Anna.

"Looks like you came through unscathed, as usual, which is so not fair. I call dibs on standing back and shooting next fight."

Anna's laugh was bright as she shook her head and turned to start looting. Lance's petulant scowl softened into something closer to a smile, and warmth replaced the lingering regret. He moved to help her gather their spoils, and before long they were starting the quiet trek back to town. It was just after they finished edging along the supports of a half-collapsed bridge that Anna spoke.

"I think it might be a good idea to find someone to teach me how to use a close combat weapon."

Lance blinked twice and glanced back at her. "Is this about my bitching back there? Because I promise it isn’t actually that big of a deal."

"No, it’s not—or not really. Your complaining just made me think of it again," Anna hummed with a tense smile.

Her eyes darted to the side, and for a moment Lance thought she’d spotted danger, and it wasn’t until after he carefully scanned their surroundings that he realized she was simply uncomfortable.

"You already carry a knife, so I just assumed..." he replied after far too long, and trailing off meaningfully.

Anna glanced down at the long knife tied at her hip with a wry twist to her lips. "It’s more for show than anything else. Sometimes men don’t take a clue, and a naked blade is more convincing than a bow. Besides, this is actually just a hunting knife, not balanced or meant for combat."

Lance frowned at her words, having never seen her being harassed before, and guessed that maybe it was during those rare times she wasn’t with him, since he couldn’t imagine anyone trying anything on a woman accompanied by a tall and well-armed fighter. A guiltier part of him quietly wondered if maybe he'd simply overlooked the issue, since he tended to pick on her, as he once did all his friends. Thankfully, she'd never pulled a knife on  him , so he figured he could safely rule himself out as a serious problem.

"Is it random, or is there someone specific giving you trouble?"

"Oh, it isn’t often," Anna assured distractedly as she narrowed her eyes on a shadow in a tree before it split into a flock of birds. She offered him a smile and added, "It’s usually drunkards in taverns if I head to the room too late. You know, the usual types. I’d tell you if it was an issue."

"Good," Lance grunted, though still inwardly planning to ensure she wasn’t alone in towns or at rest stops. "But back to teaching you about blades. Is there anyone in Greenwood who might be able to help?"

Anna shot him a disbelieving look. "Have you  met the villagers? It’s a miracle they don’t starve when I'm away. No, they might be able to teach me the super basic stuff, like don’t stab yourself with the pointy end, but I think I should be a little more proficient than that. With only two of us, we shouldn’t rely on being able to cause diversions while a shooter falls back, and it isn’t fair to make you be running point all the time when you’re hardly any more comfortable with it than I am."

Lance inclined his head, accepting her logic, but frowned. "I suppose I could get you started, but I only really know the basics myself, and only with blades the length of mine. You’d probably be better off with something a little shorter and lighter, like a fighting knife, or a short sword."

Several paces passed in silence before Anna quietly suggested, "Matt would know. I've seen him use that dagger he carries."

"Yeah, except Matt isn’t talking to us," Lance reminded bitterly.

"He might have changed his mind?" Anna tried, not sounding all that certain. "I mean, it’s one thing to not want to travel with us, and another to not want to even have us visit at all. And... and it’s been a few years since... He might like to see us. You know how he gets when he wants something and doesn’t know how to ask for it."

"A few years to us might seem like a long time, but that has to be a different story for a millennia old dragon."

Lance's words were flat, but his brow furrowed in honest consideration and, Anna thought, hope. It would be an amazing thing to be able to talk to their friend, to see how he was doing and maybe share how they had been. And even if he still refused to leave with them, he could certainly teach them to defend themselves better; it might even be an adequate distraction for him. The more she considered it, the better the idea sounded, and by the way Lance's gaze cleared, she knew he thought the same.

"Let's finish up with the storehouse, and then we can see about finding a way to get out to Matt's den," he decided firmly.

Any further discussion on the topic was placed aside in favor of more immediate concerns. Travel was even more dangerous than before, what with the influx of demons adapting to their lands, and the resulting shifts in behaviors and strengths of the native beasts and monsters. Selecting a place to rest for the night required more consideration, and extra precautions, as well as a watch of sorts.

"I still think sleeping like that is bad for your neck," Anna sighed as she snuggled into her bedroll. Her eyes glinted in the light of the small campfire as she watched Lance select a rock to lean against for the night and wrap a blanket around his shoulders.

"You know what else is bad for your neck? Getting bitten by a godsforsaken demon at two past midnight."

Anna huffed a quiet laugh before murmuring a goodnight and curling her back to the fire. Lance let a long sigh through his nose as he gave the shadows and defenses beyond their small alcove a cursory scan, then tucked his head to his chest with one hand resting on his gunblade.

Morning came with a few lighthearted jabs at Lance rubbing his neck and a simple heal spell. Breakfast was dried rations and a battered kettle of weak coffee while they watched the last minutes of the sunrise burn away the morning mist.


	6. Morning After

Lance came to consciousness sluggishly and unwillingly. His head pounded with the dull throb of the morning after a night of drinking, and his mouth tasted like rancid cotton. Even without opening his eyes, he knew he'd overdone it and already bitterly regretted it. The rest of his body simultaneously ached and yet felt oddly relaxed for such a cheap bed. A small blessing.

But mornings waited for no hangover. Already, he could hear the muffled drone of the street outside, and the warmth of sunlight fell across his shoulders. Anna would be harrying him out of bed before long; she loathed wasted mornings. Of course, she would probably also be willing to alleviate his headache, if he hadn’t done anything too awful while drinking the she felt deserved punishment.

With a muffled groan, he nuzzled his face deeper into his pillow, trying to ignore the world for a little longer. His nose scrunched up at the stringy texture of his pillow, and he brought a clumsy hand up to try and smooth the cheap fabric. Instead, his hand connected with warm skin. Warm _naked_ skin.

Lance stilled, screwing his eyes shut further, and his first absolutely brainless thought was, " _Shit, I hope Anna doesn’t walk in_. "

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d picked somebody up at a bar or inn, but he usually avoided it if he planned on drinking for several reasons. For one, alcohol hindered performance. For another, he liked to be aware while having sex. As it stood now, he didn’t even remember the event, but his body certainly was giving him the signs of a satisfying night. Certainly, it wasn’t because of the thin mattress that he felt so relaxed. Though, he would have thought Anna wouldn’t let him bed a random stranger while drunk; that sort of thing would be directly opposed to her morals.

Knowing he had to face the music—and Anna’s wrath—sooner or later, and having pants during the reckoning would probably help his confidence. Lance opened his eyes, squinting against the light and renewed throb from his head, only to freeze again. Anna lay stretched out beside him, upper body bare above the blankets, and one arm resting over her head as she peacefully slumbered.

Lance silently choked and scooted back as far as the mattress allowed before sitting up and rubbing his eyes in disbelief. Anna was still there when he looked again, all tan skin and tangled emerald hair; a dark hickey marred her neck. Both of their clothes lay scattered about the small room in telling states of disarray.

He’d slept with Anna in a random roadside inn while drunk out of his mind. Sweet Godcat, he was going to die when she woke up. It was simultaneously hilarious, horrifying, and infuriating. Hilarious, because she often joked that she’d only sleep with them if she were drunk, but she almost never drank. Horrifying, because he thought he had better control than this. Infuriating because, damnit, he’d been wanting to sleep with Anna for _months_ now, and he couldn’t even remember it when it happened. At least he could be reasonably assured he hadn’t forced her. He’d already be dead if that were the case, and she didn’t look injured or distressed.

Throughout his internal crisis, he’d remained frozen and staring, unaware that Anna had begun to stir. Her breathing quickened and her eyes tightened before opening to blink at the far wall. For a few moments, she was content in slowly waking up. Then the memories of the night before began to filter back in and her eyes widened and she jolted upright with pink cheeks. Behind her, Lance let out a startled almost-squeaking sound, and she twisted around, snatching the blanket up to cover herself.

For a moment, they only stared at one another, mouths hanging slightly open. Then a spectacularly loud crash echoed up through the floorboards, and Lance cringed at the way the sharp noise banged about in his head. Quickly recognize what was wrong, Anna reached out with one hand to rest her palm against his forehead and let her magic soothe the hangover. Lance opened his eyes when the touch lingered to find Anna studying him with a faint but thoughtful smile. He cleared his throat and broke eye contact first.

"Uh, I... um..."

Anna's smile widened before she schooled it into a more serious expression. "Lance, we need talk."

Lance flinched and immediately began apologizing. "Gods, I’m so sorry, Anna. I- There's no excuse. But I swear I didn’t-"

"Your pickup lines are  terrible ," Anna interrupted. She barely withheld her laugh when he jerked to look at her in baffled confusion. "Seriously, I know I was a virgin until last night, but even I could tell that you have  got to work on the poetry. _Green_ and _bean_ rhyme, but they probably shouldn’t both be used to woo someone. And my gods, you kept saying my hair was so green it was ' _not red_ ' with all the enthusiasm of a dog with a new stick. Do you have any idea how many people started laughing at you? I was ready to die of embarrassment on your behalf. How the hell did you ever managed to get laid with that crap before me?"

Lance gaped, shaking his head as though he didn’t understand. "You’re not mad?"

Anna arched a brow. "Mad? Why would I be mad? I mean, besides the fact that I can’t believe I still find you attractive after you went on to call me a 'weed whistler.'"

"I  _slept_ with you!"

Anna's cheeks flushed a dark red, but she managed to maintain a deadpan stare. "Yeah? And?"

"I was  _drunk!_ "

"Okay, to be fair, I did  _try_ to cut you off right after you started your foray into romantic poetry, but the guys at the next table kept calling for more rounds as payment for the entertainment."

"You slept. With me."

Anna heaved a long suffering sigh. "We covered that. Twice now."

" _Why?_ "

"Well, I assume because you find me attractive, and I find your pathetic attempts at pickup lines hilarious. That, and you’ve got a pretty face."

"Anna, I’m being serious here," Lance snapped.

Anna's lips pursed. "And so am I, mostly. What’s the big deal?"

"The  big deal is that you don't even  _like_ me like that!"

"Lance, I don’t know what relationship you’ve been looking at building here, but you’ve been flirting with me for  months ; I’ve been flirting back. For  months . Now, I admit I don’t have a lot of experience with being in a relationship, but I was under the impression that eventually a couple has sex. And don’t try to tell me you were waiting for marriage because I’ve know you for almost three decades now."

Lance's mouth opened and shut several times. Finally, he slowly said, "If you were so okay with it, and knew I was okay with it, then why the hell did you wait until I was plastered to get into my pants?"

Anna finally looked away and rubbed her nose. "Poor judgment?"

"...Seriously?"

"Okay, so I was... a little horny, too."

"A little?"

"Hey, you were the one actively groping me all the way up the stairs!" Anna protested half-heartedly. She deflated and pulled the blanket a little tighter around her body. "I’ve been trying for weeks now, but you... avoid touching me in any way like that as much as possible. I guess you were trying to give me a way out? I don’t know. But I thought maybe it’d be easier on both of us if we just went for it while you were so, um, eager." Lance's disapproval was nearly palpable, and she mumbled, "It sounded better in my head at the time. I, uh, may or may not have been a little tipsy, too. I’m sorry."

Lance let her suffer for a long moment before smirking. "Anna, I never knew you had it in you. Getting both of us drunk and into one room? For shame." His smirk widened at the scowl she sent his way. "So... did you enjoy it?"

Anna's scowl dropped off in favor of a groan of embarrassment. "I should have known you’d be a jerk about it."

"If anyone’s the jerk here, it’s the girl who got the guy drunk so she could sleep with him," Lance snorted.

"...It sounds really bad when you put it like that."

"That would be because if you had tried this stunt on anyone else besides me it would have  been really bad," Lance pointed out wryly. He settled down on his side with his head propped up on one hand, eyes glittering with amusement while Anna grumbled something under her breath. "And you haven’t answered my question. Did you have fun?"

Anna buried herself under the blanket before mumbling, "It was... pretty good... I guess."

Lance winced at the less-than-ringing endorsement, and couldn’t help defensively snapping, "Well maybe next time you should get a coherent partner, huh?"

"It wasn’t you!" Anna hastily promised, poking her head out. Her mouth made a complicated twist before she ducked out of sight again, and her next words were so quiet he had to strain to hear them, "I just... didn’t expect it to hurt quite that much at the start is all."

"Oh."

Lance guiltily reached out to pull Anna closer, still wrapped in the blanket, and was relieved when she let herself be moved. He tucked her covered head under his chin and rubbed a hand across her shoulders. Anna relaxed into the touch, slumping against his chest, and he let out a sigh.

"Well, not that I have any experience in the matter-" his lips twitched at Anna’s snort, "-but I’m told it's not a problem the next time. Are you still sore?"

"No, not anymore." She scooted back to finally emerge and meet his eyes with a pink blush. "And the rest of it was... really good."

Lance chuckled with a nod. "Good." Several more moments passed before he grinned and slyly asked, "So... does that mean we can have round two now?"

"For all the gods- You're never going to leave me alone again, are you?" Anna groaned.

"Nope."

Anna laughed and pushed herself up to lean over Lance, blanket falling to her hips. "You're paying the overstay fee."

Lance's responding grin vanished as he leaned up the last couple of inches to meet her lips. One arm curled around Anna's shoulders to drag her down with a muffled moan.

In any other encounter, Lance might have been embarrassed by how quickly events climaxed. And yet, lying there beside Anna, panting and satisfied, he only felt a bubbling lightness and warmth. Anna's fingers had found his hand at some point during the peak, and had remained loosely between his own fingers as they came down. Almost subconsciously, he brought their joined hands up to press a kiss to the back of her fingers.

"That was  _so_ much better than last night," Anna finally breathed.

She turned her head to grin at Lance, the flush of exertion and arousal slowly fading from her cheeks. Without another word, she leaned closer to share one last languid kiss before pulling away to sit up and stretch. Lance watched the smooth ripple of muscles under tanned skin, and admired the fresh marks he’d left. He knew Anna had left her own marks on his skin, and he would wear them with pride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn’t really feel like this needed a dubcon tag, even though it is definitely dubious consent, but let me know if you think I should toss it in the tags.


End file.
